


Apostate

by captainschmoop



Category: Marvel, Marvel 616
Genre: Dragon Age AU, M/M, Mentions of Death, No Major Character Death, Off-screen Character Death, class prejudices, mentions of torture, vague mentions of battle wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainschmoop/pseuds/captainschmoop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If someone had asked him a year ago if he had any intention of taking up the mantle of Viscount, Tony would have laughed in their face. Why would he want to deal with all the political bullshit that came with the title? Besides, why would anyone want to replace a Viscount who could handle not only the stubbornness of the Templars but the fickleness of the mages as well? And not just handle them but actually utilize their strengths! Starkhaven hadn't seen a time of peace and prosperity the likes of the last twelve years in decades.</p>
<p>That all came to a halt, though, the moment a hot-headed Templar exposed Viscount Steven Rogers as a mage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apostate

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to play in the Dragon Age II sandbox! Don't worry, you don't need to have knowledge of the game to read the fic, as I've only borrowed certain elements of that universe. 
> 
> Anyway, this is for the [Cap-IronMan Reverse Big Bang](http://cap-ironman.livejournal.com/tag/challenge%3A%20reverse%20bang) inspired by [this](http://i56.photobucket.com/albums/g199/darklady2010/image.jpg) lovely picture by [lei-sam!](http://lei-sam.livejournal.com/)
> 
> Major thanks to [Ingu](ingu.tumblr.com) for being my sounding board and beta! 
> 
> Now properly edited!

A week had passed, yet still the mess lingered fresh as if it occurred that morn. Tony rolled his neck, glancing at the back of newly appointed Knight-Commander Hill. "Are we done, Knight-Commander?"

She turned to him, eyes colder than ice. "I mean it, Stark. Your cooperation and assistance against the mages have been appreciated. However, the treatment and trial of the prisoners are not your concern."

"I don't think I need to remind you that I am still a Templar." He might now wear the crown, but he would always be a warrior above anything else. The only reason he took the throne was because of the chaos which had resulted in the former Viscount's fall from grace.

Hill, however, looked less than impressed. "You might have the training, but you hardly uphold the standard of our Order."

While that might be true — and what could he say, really? He liked a good time as much as the next person — Tony couldn't help but feel a certain level of hypocrisy in her statement. "Are you saying Fury was the epitome of the Templar ideal?" 

Narrowing her eyes, Hill simply turned away. "Your position as Viscount takes precedence over your past with the order." She walked toward the door without hearing or waiting on his reply. "Things are changing. Remember that," she said as she left the room.

Refusing to sigh even after he's alone, Tony sat down on his throne. A headache crept at the borders of his mind, and the meeting with Hill had done little to help. If someone had asked him a year ago if he had any intention of taking up the mantle of Viscount, Tony would have laughed in their face. Why would he want to deal with all the political bullshit that came with the title? Besides, why would anyone want to replace a Viscount who could handle not only the stubbornness of the Templars but the fickleness of the mages as well? And not just handle them but actually utilize their strengths! Starkhaven hadn't seen a time of peace and prosperity the likes of the last twelve years in decades. 

That all came to a halt, though, the moment a hotheaded Templar exposed Viscount Steve Rogers as a mage.

The resulting outcry, small at first, grew like weeds then spread like wildfire. An uprising happened, a near civil war within the city-state between those who sided with the mages and those who sided with the Templars. Civilians were caught in the crosshairs, though most were too afraid or confused to even step outside of their homes, let alone take sides. 

To top off a bad month, a blasted High Dragon and her horde had destroyed nearly half of the city. So not only did Tony have to deal with the fallout of the civil war, but he also had to salvage what was left the city from a dragon's rampage. If he were a lesser man, Tony would have balked before the task set to him, but such was not the case. He had already met with several of the nobility to discuss the issue of reparations— and their own greed — as well as spoke with representatives of the Templar Order in an attempt to rein in the peace. 

It was exhausting, and reminded Tony exactly why he hadn’t followed in his father's footsteps in the first place. 

Movement out the corner of his eye caught Tony's attention, abruptly bringing him out of his musings. Sword drawn, Tony looked up, eyes narrowing in wariness at the figure in the shadows, the outline easily recognizable. "How did you get in here?" 

"I once resided in these halls." came the reply as the man — the _mage_ — stepped closer, into the light. "What kind of Viscount wouldn't know its secrets?" Steve raised his eyebrow. He was still dressed in that damned half-armor, half-robe abomination he wore in battle. 

It took Tony a great deal of willpower not to bare his teeth. "You're not Viscount anymore, Steve. What are you doing here?"

For a moment, Steve just stared at Tony, his eyes searching. Then, he sighed. "That's it, then? Ten years of friendship thrown away because of how I was born?"

The words caused a pang in Tony’s chest which he resolutely ignored. "That has nothing to do with it. You misled this city, its people—" 

"When have I ever misled anyone? When have I answered any question falsely?" Steve demanded, eyes bright . "No one ever asked what I was, how I grew up. They only asked my opinions, which I provided, and asked for my help, which I gave to the best of my ability. I never advertised myself as anything false." 

For several long moments, they stared each other down, neither daring to break eye contact. 

Steve let out a breath through his nose. "Look, I came here, unarmed—" 

"Wouldn't have mattered. I'm a proper Templar," Tony sniped, unable to help himself.

"I didn't come here to have a pissing match with you, Tony," Steve stated calmly. "I came to talk about the well-being of the people."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Which people?"

"Maker help me, all of them!" Steve ran his hand through his hair, exasperated and angry. "Have you looked outside? The city is not only recovering from the battle but a dragon attack as well."

"You think I'm not aware? I was there! For both!" He stepped forward reflexively before he forced himself to still, lowering his sword once more. "And I've also been in here, meeting with noble after noble, not to mention the new Knight-Commander. Who, by the way, is pushing to replace Fury as my number one annoyance."

"Nick was a good man," Steve murmured, eyes downcast.

It only made Tony angrier. "He was an ass. And now he's dead."

Steve looked up, unimpressed. "Are we going to talk this through like adults, or should I just leave now and spare myself the headache?"

"Please do. Don't think I've ever seen you retreat so easily."

Steve stared at him, face impassive, and Tony refused to acknowledge how disconcerting it was. 

One of the chamber doors opened, causing both of them to take a ready stance, easing only when Pepper appeared, papers in hand and sword sheathed at her side.

"Tony, reports about the structural damage are—" Pepper stopped mid step when she looked up and noticed Steve, her eyes going wide with shock. 

Steve immediately straightened his back, holding her gaze as she moved closer to him. Tony watched from the side, anxiety and concern heavy in his chest. 

Her face hardened as she stared at Steve, eyes watering just a little. "My husband is dead." Pepper's voice was firm, almost dangerous, but it shook on the last word, her trembling bottom lip the only part of her stern features which betrayed any weakness. 

There was a sadness in Steve's eyes as he regarded her, and it was not long before he lowered them. "Many spouses are dead. Many friends," he murmured. When he looked up again, right into her eyes, his face was open and compassionate "And I'm truly sorry that it got so out of hand. I never wanted that." This time, his voice was louder, but just as gentle. 

Pepper's hand, balled in a fist, shook as she stared into Steve's eyes. Then, abruptly, she raised her arm, ready to strike with her open palm. Steve didn't flinch, just kept his eyes on hers as she brought her hand down, but not in the slap Tony — and probably Steve — expected. Instead, she simply cupped his cheek, her face crumbling. "Sometimes, I hate you for making it so difficult to hate you."

Steve deflated, just a little, and bowed his head. "I'm sorry."

She sniffled only once before she recomposed herself, back to the professional she had always been. "Security is being tightened, and patrols are doubling. If you want to get out of here without effort, I suggest you leave in the next hour."

Tony's jaw almost dropped.

"Thank you, Serah." Steve glanced at Tony. "I don't think any progress will be made today, so I'll leave now." Bowing in solemn thanks, he turned and walked away.

Tony watched him leave, a part of him hoping to see some sort of hesitance in the way Steve carried himself. 

Steve never faltered once.

He turned to Pepper instead, staring at her, incredulous, as she visibly shakes herself into composure. "You forgave him? Just like that?" He couldn't believe it, not after witnessing her break-down over Happy when they were alone.

"He wasn't the only one fighting," Pepper said quietly, cutting him a look as she offered him the reports, her professional air once again draped around her.

Tony didn't take them. "He's the reason for riots!"

"Mostly started by the Templars!" She didn't snap, but it was close. "And even then, it was only a few who drove people into a frenzy." 

She grabbed his wrist and forced the reports in his hand, not letting go until his fingers bent to grip them. They stayed in silence for a while, Tony glaring holes into the papers while Pepper stared sadly at his expression. 

"The citizens loved him, Tony," she finally spoke, a sigh leaving her lips. "He was good to them, he actually cared about them, and they don't forget that." When he didn't acknowledge her words, she placed her hands on her hips, huffing slightly. "And need I remind you that the city thrived under his command?"

"No, you don't," he spat, running his free hand through his hair and taking off the crown. "I know full well how great things were when he was Viscount." He eyed the jeweled metal with contempt, its weight growing with each second. 

"Then why are you acting so childish over this?" she asked quietly, her features softening slightly.

Tony remained silent as he walked over to the throne, placing the crown down on the cushioned seat. "Pepper," he began, but he stopped, words failing him. Shuffling the reports to buy him time, he glanced at the crown again, mocking him from where it sat on the throne. "Ten years we were friends, and he didn't trust me enough to tell me."

Pepper regarded him blankly, both hands on her sword's hilt, a habit she displayed whenever she was deep in thought. "Maybe he didn't want to lose you?"

Tony flinched. "I wouldn't have—"

"Are you sure?" She cut in, gaze piercing. "What are you doing now?"

"A full-fledged war nearly broke out within the city. Our friends are dead." Tony's defenses crumbled, and for a moment, he let himself feel how tired and upset he truly was. "Am I not allowed to be hurt?"

Pepper's face softened, but she shook her head, tired. "Think of Steve, then. His friends are dead, too, some worse than dead." She eyed him, something akin to disgust in her eyes, and for a moment Tony could not hold her gaze. "Mages are not all evil, and Templars are not all good. Look at Steve. Look at Osborn."

"Osborn," Tony practically snarled, "good riddance, I say." That rat bastard was lucky that dragon got a hold of him before Tony had.

Pepper sighed, snapping her fingers in front of his face. "Focus. The city is nearly broken. Templars are coming down harder on any misbehaviorthey see, and not just magic sympathizers. And even more mages are rebelling because of this new level of oppression." She paused, waiting for him to face her, and when he didn't, she huffed. "As Viscount, you need to put a stop to this."

Clenching his jaw, Tony looked out one of the large windows, staring into a city which lay defeated and scarred. Another battle loomed past the horizon, and Tony knew that if they didn’t act soon, it would be one even bloodier than before. This time, Starkhaven might not make it through the bloodshed. 

Sighing deeply as he turned to her, he spoke, "Get me the guard rotation for the prison."

"Why?" she asked, skeptical, before realization dawned on her. "I'm not sure any of them would be happy to see you," she told him flatly.

"If anyone knows where Steve is hiding, it'll be him." As much as he was loathe to have this particular conversation, Tony knew if he wanted to see Steve again without another fight erupting he had to talk to Barnes. "You're the only one I can rely on right now.” Most of the Templars have their head too clouded by this whole mess, or in Rhodey’s case, was mad at him for being an ass.

Pepper raised her eyebrow. "Bit of hypocrisy there, don't you think? You're not exactly thinking clearly."

"Hush," he shushed, waving his hand. Mood sobering, Tony glanced at the floor before looking her in the eye. "Pepper, I need to talk with him. Properly. My head's cleared." _A little_ , he added mentally. Seeing Steve outside of a fight had helped sooth a good deal of his hurt and stubbornness.

Pepper sighed. "Steve won't be alone."

"I know." 

"Some of the people he's with will probably want your head," she continued, nervous for the first time during their conversation.

"Who are you kidding?" Tony asked, giving her a smile he didn't feel. "Steve will probably want my head." It's a risk he was willing to take. 

"I think Steve has lost enough in this fight," she said slowly. "He probably thinks so, too."

Brow furrowing, he turned toward her. "Pepper?"

Pepper simply shook her head, a sad smile on her lips. "I have to go. Hill wants me on her side." She sent Tony a look, rolling her eyes when he raised an eyebrow. "I don't think she expects me drop my allegiance. She most likely wants to keep an eye on me."

Tony snorted. "Fine, go have fun with Miss Frigid. Just don't forget the rotations. Please," he added before she could glare at him. 

As she left the room, she glared anyway.

———

When his mother had told him to always stand his ground, Steve hadn't thought it'd be like this, seeking refuge within a former dragon lair with those who'd been caught up in his mess of a war.

Closing his eyes, Steve pressed his forehead to the cavern wall, taking small relief in the slight coolness of the stone. He knew he had taken a tremendous risk, accepting the crown without informing anyone of his magic abilities. Yet he had listened to Nick, and felt encouraged by his faith and his unflinching loyalty — even if there were times Nick made Steve want to punch him. Despite everything they had worked well together; Steve had the patience to deal with the nobility and the presence to deal with the public, while Nick had the reputation to deal with those in the underbelly of Starkhaven as well as the drive to do what had to be done. The majority of the time, it was Nick who had actively saw to it that Steve was kept out of all the questionable dealings and the messes Nick's actions sometimes led to. 

He was a bastard and a hard case, but he was a good man. And now he was dead. One of the many casualties that resulted from this whole disaster. Those who weren't killed and weren't lucky enough to escape now resided in the prison, locked up and awaiting judgment. Steve's fists clenched tight enough to shake. Innocents were in there. And to make matters worse, he had friends on _both_ sides of the bars.

How did it all deteriorate so quickly?

"Steve," Sam called as he made his way to Steve's makeshift study, rolled parchment in his hands, "news from the Order."

He straightened, taking the report. "Good or bad?" he asked, despite seeing the answer in Sam's expression. 

"Bad. They're forcing the Rite of Tranquility on several captive mages."

Steve's heart sank as he read the names; so many robbed of their passions and made more agreeable with authority. "Please tell me Hank hasn’t heard of this yet," he spoke quietly, looking out into the cave in search of his fellow mage. He'd been restless ever since Janet was taken. They all were. Sam shook his head, and Steve slammed his fist against the cavern wall. "Damn it all! We're running out of options, Sam." 

Sam crossed his arms, expression stern. "No. If you turn yourself in, they'll only make you Tranquil. You won't be able to present your case, and you'll be branded an even worse renegade — literally."

He knew all that, but he was still restless. "I cannot sit idly by while innocents are punished in my place."

"Handing yourself in, Rogers?" Namor asked, startling the both of them. He leaned against the stone archway, arms and ankles crossed, an expression of boredom etched on his face.

"Namor." Steve all but sighed, sharing a look with Sam. He'd known the Elf for a long time, and he could tell a lecture loomed near.

"Forget the lives lost because of this idiocy then." Namor spoke blandly, one eyebrow rising.

Steve narrowed his eyes. "Nothing would have happened if I had just been truthful." All his mistakes seemed clearer in hindsight, and he had to force himself not to dwell on the what-could-have-beens; it was easier said than done.

"You were, Steve," Sam said, placing his hand on Steve's shoulder, face gentle. "You showed this city exactly what kind of character you possess. That should have been enough."

"You forget that the Templars here are not the brightest," Namor drawled, glancing at Sam with a raised eyebrow. Sam mirrored the action in turn.

Steve barely refrained himself from rolling his eyes. "Enough of this. Some of the finest people I've met are Templars."

Unimpressed, Namor stared straight at Steve as he asked, "How many of those people still live?"

He didn't flinch, but it was close. Steve didn't need to be slapped in the face with the loss of life; he knew the numbers too well, had been going over them since they retreated after the High Dragon's defeat. He had tried to hold on to his peace of mind by convincing himself that the captives were being treated decently, but with the newest report of the Rite, Steve was losing the battle within his own mind.

"Namor," Sam said slowly after a tense silence, "can you give us a minute?"

He stared at Sam, glanced over to Steve, and then shrugged. "Very well. I shall go try to distract Pym."

"Steve, those deaths weren't your fault." Sam said quietly, reading Steve like he always could.

"If the city hadn't been thrown into chaos over me, we might have been more prepared for the dragons."

"Fury had everything as prepared as it could have been. A horde that size was bound to do serious damage no matter what."

"Half the city burned, the other half scared and confused." Steve rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. "Damn Osborn," he muttered. Starkhaven suffered all because of Osborn's greed to become both Knight-Commander and Viscount; he hadn't counted on Nick having Steve's back, but he made sure the public would learn of what Steve really was. That was all it took.

With a sigh, Sam folded his arms, giving Steve a sympathetic look. "He's been damned. By dragon fire, no less." His expression clearly stated that he thought that was too good for Osborn.

Steve couldn't help but let a small smile grace his lips. "You didn't have to follow me here, Sam," he said, not for the first time. He felt guilty that he was the cause of Sam's desertion, but Steve definitely appreciated having Sam by his side.

"There was no way I was going to stay in the Order, and definitely no way I was going to listen to Viscount Stark." Sam rolled his eyes at Steve's expression. "Don't give me that look, the man didn't even want to listen to you!"

"We weren't the only side hurt by all this," Steve said quietly.

"I understand that," Sam said in a huff, pinching the bridge of his nose, "but, if we're really going to go down that route, this side has had it worse, and yet you went to the Viscount's Keep."

"Sam," Steve said, and he was definitely not whining.

Sam raised his hands in submission. "Okay, okay, shutting up. For now." He sent Steve a look and left, probably going to talk to Luke about their back-up plan now that talks with Tony fell through.

He knew Sam had a point, but there was a crucial piece of information Sam was missing, one that Steve wasn't up to revealing to his friend just yet, partly because it had been due to a stupid and reckless decision on Steve's part. How could he have ignored reason and let himself be ruled by his desire for Tony?

A low rumble of discontent caught Steve's attention, and Steve furrowed his brow as he looked towards the noise. He froze when he saw Tony walk into the main chamber of the cave, carrying neither his crown or his sword. Tony still donned his armor, and he was definitely uncomfortable as he walked further inward. Steve just couldn't believe the new Viscount had actually came to their hideaway, or that he was able to find it.

"Tony?" Steve called as he moved toward the man, confused. He stopped, though, when he saw the person standing next to Tony. "Bucky," he said, surprised.

"Hey, Steve," Bucky greeted, a weary grin on his face. He looked like he'd seen better days, and the sight of his left arm, broken and infected, made Steve's heart ache.

"How?" he asked as he took hold of Bucky's arm, inspecting it and mildly cursing the lack of care.

Bucky shrugged and jerked his head in Tony's direction, where the man stood awkwardly — something that Steve rarely witnessed — a few meters away, eyes surveying the area and the few people here and there as if he expected an attack.

Which, all things considered, was probably highly possible.

Steve caught Sam's eye, and the former Templar nodded and stood on stand-by, in case a fight did break out. Once he felt reassured that the situation was under control, Steve focused his attention back on Bucky. "Did he break you out?" he asked as he fussed about Bucky's arm.

"Hell if I know." Bucky smacked Steve's hands away, giving him an amused look. "Had to convince me to trust him, though, after that stunt he pulled at the Gallows."

Keeping his hands to himself, Steve raised an eyebrow. "What did he say?" He glanced at Tony, making sure no one was attacking him; Sam seemed to be doing a good job of keeping order.

"Don't think I'm going to repeat it," was all Bucky said, face blank.

Brow furrowed, Steve cocked his head to the side. "What?" He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Never mind, how are you?" He ushered Bucky into his study and went straight to his staff.

"Besides the arm?" Bucky grinned, finally allowing Steve to tend to his arm. "Fine. Natasha kept an eye out for me," he added quietly, glancing at Steve as he began to heal what he could. "I heard about what happened to Janet."

Steve sighed but kept concentrating on the healing spell. "Hank doesn't know yet. I was trying to think of a way to break the news to him, but —"

"But then we showed up." Bucky nodded, watching Steve's hands, glowing with magic, hover over his arm. "Yeah, wasn't exactly planning on this, myself."

Steve made a noncommittal noise, focused on healing his best friend. Given the length of time it had been left untreated, Steve had doubts of restoring the arm to full functionality, but he would _try_. "So I take it they haven't been treating their prisoners decently," he said when he was finally satisfied that he had done all he could.

Bucky shrugged, testing his arm, movement off by a fraction. "It all depends on the guards, really. You either get some hotheads who hate absolutely anything to do with magic, or you get the ones who are indifferent and only care about getting the guilty tried." He sighed, folding his arms. "Of course, the mages get the worst of it all around."

Steve couldn't believe this. Sure, Bucky hadn't exactly been in nice standing with the law, being the type of rogue he was, but Steve had thought they would have at least taken the care to treat Bucky's wound. Did his outing as a mage really strengthen prejudices so much? 

Bucky studied him for a few moments before glancing at Tony. "Heard your name dropped several times in the cells."

Steve sighed. "No doubt accompanied with a curse." 

"Not always. Sometimes it was just Templars who couldn't believe they were bested by a mage. Or that their former Viscount was one." He glanced at Steve. "Sometimes, though, you get a few Templars whispering about how great you were for their great city-state." 

"And now Starkhaven is nearly broken."

"Just the body. The will is still holding on," Bucky said, bumping shoulders with Steve. 

The action made Steve smile, as small as it was. He sighed. "I'm glad you're well," he said quietly; all things considered, Bucky could have been in a worse state. 

"Glad you are too," Bucky replied, his tone just as soft, leaning against Steve. "I heard Fury died." His voice was quiet, but there also lay skepticism. 

It made Steve's lips twitch upward; Bucky _would_ believe Nick was alive and hiding somewhere. "It's assumed. No one actually saw him fall, and you know how that man can be." 

Bucky chuckled. "Do I ever. That son of a bitch practically invented craftiness. Always said he had the makings to specialize in anything he wanted. He's probably trained in everything without anyone knowing." 

Steve's lips twitched in amusement, but only for a moment. He looked out to where Tony stood, eyes no longer roaming about but trained on the ground, slightly rigid.

"You should probably go talk to him now," Bucky offered, deadpan.

Steve nodded; he had kept Tony waiting long enough. "Think he'll take his head out of his ass?"

"Stark? Never. But I think he's willing to put in the effort now." Bucky had that gleam in his eye, the kind that told Steve he knew a secret. 

It never failed to put Steve on edge. "Fine. Keep look out for Namor and Hank?" At Bucky's nod, Steve walked over to the awaiting Viscount, taking a deep breath to brace himself for what was to come.

Tony tensed as he neared, and he didn't let up even when he recognized it was Steve approaching. "Tony," Steve greeted quietly.

"Steve," Tony said with a nod. They stood there awkwardly before Tony cleared his throat. "Very nice cave. Needs a little sprucing up, but overall, it's nice."

Raising an eyebrow, Steve simply blinked at the man; he seemed changed. "You didn't come here to comment on our hideaway." When that didn't really garner a response, Steve asked the question that had been on his mind since they arrived. "How did you get Bucky out?"

"I took him from his cell," Tony said bluntly.

Breathing in deeply through his nose, Steve leveled Tony a look. "If that's true, then I'd imagine Knight-Commander Hill will be very upset with you."

Rolling his eyes, Tony crossed his arms in front of his chest. "And if she is?"

"Tony, this isn't time for rashness and bullheadedness. Tensions are high as it is, and making enemies with Hill won't help matters," he said, already exhausted by the conversation. 

"Yeah, I know, but I'll be damned if she thinks she can usurp me just because she's annoyed. That isn't how this works," Tony said, not even a little repentant for his attitude. 

That would have caused Steve to smile fondly once upon a time, but coupled with everything that's happened, it only got on his nerves. "No, it isn't. You're supposed to work with her."

"I'm not exactly buddies with her the way you were with Fury," Tony said hotly. 

"A given, considering I actually liked him enough to strike up a good friendship." He understood how other people saw Nick because, hell, Steve sometimes saw Nick the same way, but he had to admit that their partnership went a long way for Starkhaven; it was one of the reasons peace was achieved with relative ease when he was Viscount; because they both cared for the well-being of the people, they kept each other in check. 

Tony scoffed. "It doesn't matter how good of friends you were, he's gone, and his replacement is an even bigger ass." 

"What _is_ your problem? No," Steve said, raising his hand and shaking his head. "Forget it. Why have you come here, Tony?" If he didn't get this conversation over with soon, he was going to do something he'd regret.

Sighing, Tony massaged his temple. "Look, I know things got bad and that I got a little short with you before, but, really can you blame me?" The petulance never left his expression, but at least Tony looked Steve in the eye. "In all honesty, tell me you wouldn't have acted the same way if you were in my shoes."

Steve wanted to say he wouldn't have been in his shoes, wouldn't have thought disdain of someone simply for how they were born, but Steve knew that would only make their conversation stilted. "I'm sorry. I never thought things would get so out of hand," he said instead, sounding like a broken record even to himself, but he _was_ remorseful; he also had to say something he'd been shirking from, "Nor did I think you would, well, actually return my feelings."

Tony stared at Steve, blinking slowly. "Because you're stupid," he then said flatly.

"Oh, I see," Steve said, narrowing his eyes. "It was stupid of me to worry about how you'd react once you found out, considering how often you spat at anything to do with magic."

"Steve," Tony breathed, closing his eyes. "That wasn't what I meant."

"Yeah, well, you're right, it was stupid of me to go to your bed, knowing what I did." It came out harsher than he intended, but Steve couldn't swallow the hurt he felt or the shame of letting his desires govern him. 

As minute as it was, Tony flinched. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Instead, he stared at Steve, eyes gleaming. 

Just as Steve was about to speak, to clarify or apologize or both, a shout of, "Stark!" pierced the air, causing him to close his eyes. Steve prayed for strength as Hank marched toward them.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Hank demanded, the mage struggling in Sam's grip to get in Tony's face. "Haven't you done enough?"

Taken aback, Tony held up his hands. "Listen, I—"

"No, I don't have to listen to anything you have to say. This whole mess is your fault! Steve has been marked as enemy number one; mages are being hunted. Janet is Tranquil because of you!" Hank's voice broke, from rage or sorrow, Steve couldn't tell. 

Tony's face turned ashen, and his mouth opened but formed no words.

"Hank," Steve said gently, "this won't do any good."

"He's still a bastard," Hank said, still glaring at Tony. 

"I know, but I need to talk with him," Steve said, glancing at Sam. 

With a nod, Sam guided Hank away, though not without giving Tony a glare.

"Guess Pepper was right," Tony said after a moment, voice semi-hoarse. "Folk here want my head." He stared after Hank for a few seconds before looking at Steve. 

"But you came anyway," Steve said, searching Tony's eyes for some clue as to what the man was thinking. 

"Yes, I did, but not as Viscount or as a Templar. I'm here as your friend. If you still consider me one, which," he said, a wry smile to his lips, "I don't think you do."

"I never said that," Steve said quietly. 

Tony raised his eyebrow. "You just told me it was stupid to get involved with me," he pointed out, petulant once again. 

"Yes, without telling you first," he snapped, running a hand over his face. "I let my desire cloud my judgment." He probably shouldn't have said that much, but Steve was through with being dishonest, especially in the aftermath of all that's happened. "I was trying to find a way to tell you without you freaking out when Osborn interfered." 

"And then everything went to shit," Tony finished. 

Steve raised an eyebrow. "More or less." 

"And then a High Dragon came, and everything went even more to shit," Tony said, as if commenting on the whether. 

"Yes, thank you for that detailed recap," Steve said drily. 

The corner of Tony's mouth twitched upward in a smirk, but he grew serious a moment later. "Pepper's rather confident that the people still love you. We just have to get Hill to realize you're not a threat." 

"That won't be easy. She's already put mages under the Rite, and Sam thinks she won't hesitate to do the same to me if she gets the chance." 

"Then let's not give her that chance. Let me talk to her." 

"Like I tried to talk to you?" Steve asked, deadpan. 

"Hey, there were emotions involved in that," Tony said defensively. "She gets on my nerves, but I'm very capable of playing the politician." 

Sighing, Steve nodded. "If you think you can talk to her without doing any more damage, fine. But," he said before Tony could showboat, his eyes serious, "if that falls through, I'm going to speak with her myself." 

"You sure know how to put the pressure on," Tony said, smirking. 

Steve rolled his eyes. "No, I'm just tired of this. It has to end, or more of our friends are going to suffer, and more innocent lives will be lost."

His words seemed to sober Tony up. "Fine. I'll go back and try to make peace." With that, he turned and began making his way out of the cave. 

"Tony," Steve called, giving him a small smile when he turned. "Thank you." Steve watched as Tony nodded, smiling, before resuming his retreat. Breathing deeply, Steve closed his eyes, praying that Tony wouldn't make things worse. 

———

"Viscount Stark," Hill said as he entered the throne room. She'd obviously been awaiting his return. 

"Knight-Commander Hill," Tony drawled, exhaustion creeping up on him. Couldn't he catch a break? 

"One of my prisoners has vanished," she stated, eying his unadorned head and empty sheath. 

"And you would like me to do what?" he asked, wishing for a strong drink. 

"Return him," she said simply. 

"I don't think I need to remind you that I am Viscount, and therefore have the power to pass sentence." He kept his temper and attitude in check; he had just told Steve that he'd try to make peace, after all, and that smile he earned had been enough to convince Tony to _try_. 

"And I don't think I need to remind you that things are changing," Hill replied without missing a beat. 

"You're not going to change decades' worth of right and privilege overnight. Even if I let you change them at all." Tony sighed, scratching the back of his head. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but why don't you strive to be more like Fury?"

Hill's eyes narrowed. "Fury worked with and assisted apostate mages—"

"Who were innocent," Tony interrupted. "I do recall arrests being made whenever any broke the law." He really needed a drink; he was defending both Fury's decision to let mages run unchecked and mages themselves against the Knight-Commander. Who would have thought? 

Hill remained silent, studying Tony, and Tony could see the thoughts running through her mind. "What is this newfound tolerance? I recall you being very vocal in your opposition to magic-users."

Tony nodded because what was the point in denying? "Tell me, why are you so against mages? Is it only because the Order tells you to be?"

Huffing, she stepped closer to him. "If you've disdain for our Order, why did you become a Templar in the first place?"

"For the ability to resist magic," Tony answered as if it were obvious. Which, really, it should have been; she knew all about his kidnapping all those years ago. "The addiction and the disillusionment were unwanted side effects."

Eyes narrowing, Hill crossed her arms. "Apostate mages are dangerous. They receive no formal training and can easily become corrupt." She sent him a look of frustration, and he knew she was specifically referring to his apostate kidnappers. 

But Tony only raised an eyebrow. "And the twelve year reign of Viscount Rogers is a sign of mage corruption?"

"Fury had—"

"Worked with him, to make sure _everyone_ was tried fairly." There he was, defending Fury again. Steve would be so proud. "The only time they didn't work well together was when they got on each other's cases if they thought something was wrong, but even then they would work out a compromise best suited to the situation." 

Tony had definitely witnessed more than one of those tiffs. And people thought _he_ was stubborn. Ha. 

"Starkhaven will not have that kind of peace and prosperity any time soon," he finished, even if it hurt his ego to admit. Yes, he and Hill would be efficient, would get all the job done, but they wouldn't have same influence over the citizens as Steve and Fury once had. 

Tony turned, dismissing Hill with a halfhearted wave of his hand. "Now, if you excuse me, I have a city to run, a mess to clean up, and noble asses to kiss." He'd had enough of talking for one day. He'd get on with the real negotiations with Hill concerning Steve tomorrow. But that reminded him... "Oh, and one more thing," he said, regarding her once more, "I want to know when the Rite of Tranquility is being considered for captive mages."

Hill scoffed. "What business—"

"As a Templar and, more importantly, as Viscount." He stood his full height, looking at her the way his father looked at him. "If I hear of another forced Rite, I will see to it that the perpetrators are thrown in the dungeons." He watched, unflinching, as Hill glared at him before she stalked out of the throne room. 

———

"The talk with Steve went well then?" Pepper asked as she handed him a sheet of paper. Nobles who wanted their properties to be a number one concern, no doubt. 

"I didn't die or get punched in the face," he replied, barely glancing at the list. It went a lot better than he expected. Even his little chat with Hill afterward had ended without swords being drawn. 

"Hill was furious when she found out Barnes was missing," Pepper sighed. "Made trouble with her already?" 

"We had a chat, no bloodshed resulted. All in all, it was a good night. Now I just have to convince her to meet with Steve without throwing him in a cell." Tony rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands; he hadn't gotten enough sleep and felt ready to call it a day. It wasn't even lunch yet. 

"You'd better do it soon. I think she's planning something. I tried to get more information, but everyone's tight lipped around me," she said, frustration clear in her voice. 

"Nothing from Natasha or Carol?" he asked, surprised. "Rhodey?" Something definitely didn't sit well with him if even their closest allies had begun to avoid Pepper. 

Pepper shook her head. "I haven't even seen them. And before you ask, I've checked the prisoner logs; they haven't been locked away." 

"On record," Tony said, fist clenched as he stood up. He needed to make sure. 

The chamber doors opened, startling Tony and Pepper both. For a few seconds, Tony enjoyed the feeling of relief that washed over him upon realizing it was Carol, before his mood sobered at her expression. 

"Serah Danvers?" Pepper questioned, her brow furrowing. 

"You led Hill to Steve's hideout," Carol said bluntly, marching up to Tony. 

Tony blinked, dumbstruck, before the words finally registered in his mind. "What?" was all that came out of his mouth. 

Carol searched his eyes. "It wasn't your plan to use Barnes to get to Steve so Hill could arrest him?" 

"Fuck," Tony breathed, feet already moving before he fully realized it. He was only vaguely aware of Pepper calling his name, but he pushed it away. If Carol had come to him, it meant at best she had heard about the plan about to take place and at worst _had seen_ the aftermath of its execution. Steve was in danger. Knowing Hill, she was sure to make it known that it _had_ been Tony's plan, and that was the last thing he needed after the damn incident at the Gallows. 

He had finally gotten back on sure footing with Steve; he'd be damned if he'd let anyone trip up him now. 

Certain that Hill would want to make a show of her capture of enemy number one, he headed first the Lowtown Square, pausing only to mount the horse Pepper had brought to him, his heart racing. It felt like an eternity until they reached the square, and Tony couldn't get off his horse fast enough, eyes searching the crowds which had amassed. He froze when he saw Hill in front of six of her Templars, and Tony watched in quiet panic as Steve was led into the center of the square, in chains, his eyes downcast. He heard Pepper gasp beside him. 

"The mage that has caused our great city such turmoil!" Hill called out above the murmuring of the crowd, her sword rising to Steve's chest. 

The crowd yelled in anger, but Tony couldn't tell whom the anger was directed toward. He glanced at Pepper, saw the look of panic on her face, felt it in his stomach, and he stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his sword. 

"Steve!" came Sam's yell as the man burst through the crowds, running towards him, followed closely by Bucky, Luke, and several non-mages who had rallied behind the former Viscount. 

"Wilson!" Hill shouted, eyes narrowing and sword turning toward Sam. "Deserter! By the Order, you are—"

A terrible shriek cut off her words, the sound followed by booming thunder and a punishing gust of wind. In shock, Tony stared at Steve, whose expression changed from confusion to pale realization.

Dragon.

His sword unsheathed, Tony moved forward, vaguely aware of Pepper and Carol keeping step beside him, and focused on the fact that Steve still remained in cuffs.

Civilians panicked and began to flee the square as Hill called her forces to arms, Steve nearly forgotten as the dragon finally came into view. Purple scales. Tony cursed. Another blasted High Dragon. It roared and reared its head back, spitting fire from its mouth, causing a frenzy as people tried to get out of the line of fire.

Hill was trying to command her soldiers as Pepper tried to get civilians to safety. Tony made his way to Steve, keeping an eye on the incoming fire, and readied his sword to break Steve's cuffs. 

Steve, however, had his eyes glued to the dragon, expression serious as he strained against the chains, and before Tony's eyes, Steve _broke_ them with sheer strength, before he caught the staff Sam had tossed him and sent ice right to the dragon's underbelly. While the dragon still soared the skies.

Tony stared, awestruck, at Steve. He had no idea the man had that kind of power. 

He didn't have time to admire Steve for long as the dragon swiftly landed, roaring with renewed fury. Its massive claws swiped at the nearest group of Templars, sending them flying, and it snarled, considering Steve with slitted, golden eyes. It raised its head high, towering over them, its scales almost glimmering in the sunlight, and bared its sharp teeth.

"Steve!" Bucky called and threw Steve's shield at him just as the dragon spat fire again.

Not for the first time, Tony found himself grateful for that red, white, and blue monstrosity as it took the majority of the blast, allowing Steve to cast his spells in no time. Tony really needed to discuss just what the thing was made of and exactly how Steve came by it.

Once Pepper signaled she had cleared most of the civilians from the area, Tony took a deep breath and moved in for an attack. Steve countered most of the dragon's fire, yelling for people to get out of range and protecting them from the flames, and the Templars saw to trying to penetrate its scales while trying to avoid claws, a tail, and occasionally teeth. 

"You have to release the mages!" Steve shouted towards Hill, the majority of his attention focused on the dragon. 

Hill was pushed back, the dragon's claws missing her by mere inches. Tony saw her glare. "Was this some plot?" 

"Are you mad?" Steve snapped from behind his shield. "Lives are at stake here! We need healers and ice. This fight will last longer without them, and people will die!" 

"Get off your high horse," Tony snarled when he saw Hill open her mouth to _argue_. "Do what he says!" He didn't see her reaction, as in that moment, the blasted tail of the dragon swung at him, forcing him to focus on not getting crushed. 

They had already taken down a High Dragon, and her horde along with it; another one should not have appeared so soon after. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rhodey strike the beast, narrowly avoiding being hit by its tail. To top off this perfect day, this one seemed a hell of a lot stronger than the last. 

The creature roared again and took to the sky with a slam of its wings, causing several fighters to step back and curse. It was getting a second wind, and their forces wouldn't be able to continue through its assault, not without healing. Tony looked for Hill, ready to give her a piece of his mind, but his eyes found Steve instead. He was casting healing magic on whoever he could. 

Jogging over, Tony noticed the man Steve was focusing on was Rhodey. 

"Can't even handle a dragon?" Tony asked, his tone light despite his insides being anything but. Steve didn't acknowledge his presence, focusing his magic with a frown etched on his face. 

"Thought I was doing pretty well myself," Rhodey replied, straight-faced. "Serah, please, that's enough, others are in more need of your talents," he said to Steve, placing a hand on the mage's wrist. "You also need to rest." 

"I'm fine, thank you," Steve said quietly, covering Rhodey's hand with his own and patting it as he got up and quickly moved onto the next person. 

Tony hesitated, torn between fussing over Rhodey and following Steve. It was always the hard choices. 

"Go after him, idiot," Rhodey said, cutting into Tony's thoughts. He got up from the ground, stretching. 

"Not a good move to call your Viscount an idiot," Tony snarked back by reflex, wincing internally as soon as the words left his mouth. 

Rhodey, though, only rolled his eyes. "Just go tell him it wasn't your idea." He waved Tony away. "We'll discuss all the ways you _are_ an idiot later." 

Tony couldn't help but smile as he turned and jogged to Steve, who had just gotten up off the ground after healing yet another person. "You keep pushing yourself like that, and you're going to keel over." When Steve didn't respond, and just kept walking to the injured soldier, Tony grabbed his arm. "You don't have enough energy to heal everybody!" 

"I have to help those worse off until the others get here," Steve snapped, yanking his arm from Tony's grip. 

"How do you know Hill will even keep her word?" he asked, not letting the mage move another step; the man was swaying! 

"Bucky and Natasha went with her," Steve said, giving Tony his best _you better listen, son_ look, but the fact that Steve actually let Tony block him from moving was telling enough. 

"Good," Tony said, nodding; he could trust them to see the task done. They stared each other down for a few moments before Tony sighed. "I didn't lead Hill to you. I didn't know I was being followed. Hell, I asked the kid to double check, and he said we were in the clear." He shook his head. "I should have known something was up when she didn't put up much of fuss at Barnes' release," he muttered, angry at himself for not cluing in sooner. 

"I swear, Steve, I wouldn't pull something like that, not after the mess in the Gallows." He'd honestly thought it was a good idea at the time, pretending to call a truce to get Steve's forces out in the open. 

The look on Steve's face that night would probably haunt him for the rest of his days, especially since that incident had resulted in Janet's capture and sentence. Tony looked at Steve now, looked into that blank face, and hoped the man would believe him. He swore that once the dragon was taken care of, he would sit both Steve and Hill down and fucking force them to talk through everything. 

Steve's sigh caught Tony's attention, and he watched with bated breath as Steve opened his mouth. 

The dragon's roar interrupted whatever it was Steve had wanted to say, and they both looked toward the sky as the returning beast circled the square, preparing to descend once more. 

Tony called the men and women to arms, rallying their forces together, as Steve readied both his shield and his staff. Casting a concerned glance in Steve's direction, Tony watched as the creature landed, and he cursed the fact that the other mages weren't here yet. 

Which of course was when they decided to show up. 

As reinforcements poured into the square, Steve immediately began shouting orders to mages and Templars alike, and people scrambled to follow them. Tony felt magic being cast all around him, saw Templars and fighters springing back into action, and he grinned to himself, imagining Hill's face at the sight of her soldiers being healed by apostate mages. His good mood didn't last for long, because the dragon apparently didn't approve of the added players and showered them with fierce attacks, blows landing harder and swifter each time. The only saving grace was Steve, accompanied by other mages, fending off the fire. 

With a great roar, the High Dragon swiped its claws at the same moment it spat fire, decommissioning the mages by Steve's side. Alarmed, Tony struggled his way to Steve, striking whatever part of the dragon that came within range. Steve faced the dragon's mouth and its fire, too focused to notice the tail heading right toward him. 

"Steve!" Tony yelled as he dove forward. One of the dragon's tail spikes pierced his armor, and he cursed, dropping down to one knee as one of his hands clutched his wound. There was definitely blood. 

"That was reckless!" Steve stepped in front of him, shield and staff angled so that he was protecting them both. He made to heal Tony, but Tony pushed the staff away; he'd been watching Steve and knew the man was running on fumes. 

Steve scowled, but kept his magic to himself. "Hey," he said as something caught his eye. Tony followed his gaze. "There's a slit in its scales." 

A plan was already forming inside that head of his, Tony could tell. Steve muttered something and touched his staff to the shield. "Take this," he said as he shoved his shield in Tony's hands. He then grabbed Tony's sword from his hand. 

Tony's eyes widened. "What do you think you're doing?" he demanded, grabbing onto Steve's tattered robe. "You don't have enough magic, and you've taken one hit too many." Panic rose up in Tony's chest as he tried to take back his sword; he didn't like the odds. 

"If I don't use this chance, the dragon might take to the sky again. This has to end." He gave Tony a tired smile as he took hold of Tony's hand, pressing the back of it to his forehead. "If it doesn't work, try to stay alive, okay?" 

He didn't give Tony any time to respond, tearing away toward the dragon's underbelly, muttering something that made the blade of Tony's sword glow. 

With something akin to horror, Tony watched as Steve whistled, the dragon snarling as it body slammed him. 

"Steve!" Tony shouted, eyes wide with shock as a bright flash appeared under the beast, causing the dragon to howl, its whole body trembling. All the uninjured mages used the creature's stillness to their advantage and took the opportunity to douse the dragon in ice to the best of their ability. 

Turning to the Templars, Tony barked out a command. "Don't stand still, attack it while it's stunned! Help the mages!" 

And attack they did. Tony tried to stand up, but he stumbled back to the ground, cursing his injury. He decided to stay put, not wanting anyone to lose focus on killing the damn thing. 

After several minutes, the High Dragon groaned and fell on its side, letting out a pitiful attempt at fire as its dying breath. 

The people cheered, clasping each other on the arm or back regardless of class. 

Tony forced himself up and limped toward the carcass, trying to spot any sign of Steve. After a few minutes, he found him, lying on the ground, unmoving. Tony's blood ran cold as he got closer, legs unsteady. 

"Steve, I swear, I will not forgive you if you die like this," Tony found himself saying as he collapsed next to Steve's body, shakily reaching for him, wanting to check his pulse, but he didn't know what to do. He couldn't make his thoughts function properly; he felt stuck in a state of numbness. 

Blinking, Tony found himself pounding on Steve's chest, his vision blurry with tears. "You do not get to leave before anything is cleared up," he whispered, angry at himself for being such an idiot, "Steve, please." He hated begging, yet here he was, with tears in his eyes, pleading. He leaned down, pressing his lips to Steve's, whispering again, "Please, Steve." 

He didn't know how long he stayed like that — a second, a minute, an hour, a lifetime — but gasping broke Tony's numb trance, and he stared as Steve's eyes fluttered open, his breathing ragged. Tony held his breath as Steve coughed. 

When the fit stopped, Steve opened his eyes fully, taking in the surroundings, before settling on Tony, who immediately straightened himself, tense. 

"Tony," Steve spoke, his voice hoarse, "I think I destroyed your sword."

Tony blinked and ignored Steve’s comment. "You are no longer allowed to call me reckless ever again," he breathed, all tension leaving his body at the sight of Steve breathing, his face, his eyes, _Steve_. 

Steve coughed again, a smile on his face. "You're way more reckless than I am," he said quietly, no heat in his voice. 

"At least I'm not crazy," Tony muttered, taking hold of Steve's hand, still unable to believe that Steve was alive. 

"Debatable," Steve murmured, squeezing Tony's hand, either to comfort Tony or himself. 

Bucky walked over to them with two small bottles in hanging from his hands, shaking his head. "You both are reckless and crazy," he said, tossing the potions to Tony. "And stubborn. Since he'll probably fuss about others needing the healers more, make him drink these." Abruptly, Bucky turned and started to walk away. 

"Hey, Barnes," Tony called, waiting until Bucky turned to look over his shoulder, "Thanks." 

Bucky rolled his eyes, but he smiled. "Just tell him what you told me already." He nodded and walked away. 

Shaking his head, Tony uncorked the health potion and brought it to Steve's lips, cradling the back of his head as he sipped. 

The effects were almost instantaneous. As Steve finished drinking, his eyes were brighter and his breathing much more even. He sat up by himself, checking himself over. Then he stared at Tony. 

"What did you tell him?" Steve asked, curious as he took the other bottle from Tony's hands. 

Blushing lightly, Tony looked away, debating on whether or not to answer. Though, hadn't he said that when the dragon was taken care of he'd actually talk to Steve? With a slight huff, he said, "Something about being insanely in love with you." 

He felt his cheeks grow warmer, dammit. 

Steve drank the lyrium potion, his eyes never leaving Tony as his magic returned. "Is that so?" he asked after he finished the bottle, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

"So," Steve said after a moment of silence, "seeing as the feeling's mutual, think it's possible to work out a compromise to this whole thing?" 

"Steve," Tony said slowly, closing his eyes, "if you want the crown back, all you have to do is ask." He grinned, looking Steve in the eye, feeling a weight lift from his chest. "Besides, I've been thinking, the position of Knight-Commander is much better suited to my charming personality."

Chuckling, Steve shook his head. "I think changes like that need some sort of formal discussion first." 

He looked at the people around them, in turn receiving healing and helping to clean up, and sighed. "Hill doesn't look too cross. Maybe everything will work out now," Steve said, turning back to Tony with a smile. 

Tony just nodded, a stupid grin on his face. With Steve smiling at him like that, Tony really believed him. What's more, he wanted to make it happen. 

And Tony Stark was nothing if not determined.


End file.
